Tennis Racquets, Chocolate and Gold
by SyrenHug
Summary: Dreams. Possibilities. They were trembling, breaking things. Once you touched them it was hard to know if they would stay still. KevRyo. Four-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, doodles. This a two shot I've been wanting to do for forever. I'm making progress on getting almost all my one-shots done. Thankfully. xD

Anyways, this is a little angsty but fluff occurs in the next part. Promise.

Warnings: Language. General sadness. Abandonment issues but oops, can't tell you the whole story yet.

* * *

Kevin could remember. He could remember the rough texture of the sheets. The way the sunlight flitted through the window and crowned over Ryoma like a halo. The noises: teasing tones and lazy moans. The feeling of pure, unadulterated love. It was impermeable. They'd finally gotten to the only place they needed to be; with each other.

But then he left. Cleared himself out with an ache somewhere in himself he couldn't cut his way out of. It was that deep rooted fear, that pain. That, just like all the times before, he was going to be abandoned. So he abandoned first.

There was never a moment when he didn't regret it.

* * *

It was almost a year later that his manager called and told him that Ryoma Echizen would be accompanying him on his trip to Japan. He knew Ryoma had been in America for years and never shown an inclination for going back. He loved Japan, it was home, but there was something different in the air of America. He agreed.

He didn't know how to act when he saw him again. He thought there'd be a rage, a temper tantrum the boy was so known for. He thought there'd be anything else but the quiet blankness in Ryoma's face when he greeted him at the terminal because they'd been on different flights.

"You know where were staying?" Kevin asked gruffly. He hadn't really wanted to speak first. The cab driver cursed loudly and he jumped.

Ryoma didn't turn from his view of the window. He didn't look any different. Same average height, same try-me-I-dare-you stare. But he was quieter. It wasn't so much the fact that he didn't speak; it was the intensity of his silence that had changed. He mourned it, though he didn't feel he had the right to.

Finally, after a lengthy pause, "Hotel."

He accepted that it was as much as he deserved.

* * *

They had to share a room. He was glad that it hadn't turned into some cheesy romance movie where they were forced to share a bed too.

They were going to be seeing each other practically every day for two weeks. Two weeks. Then he could go back to being non existent, invisible in his apartment. It hadn't been that way with Ryoma. Whenever Kevin had been with him, even when they were just friends with unaccountable sexual tension, there'd been a ripple of being in the space around him. People knew you were _there _with Ryoma.

He unzipped his suitcase, trying to keep his eyes away from the other side of the room. Ryoma was sitting on the bed. How could a person look so inexplicable perfect just sitting?

"I'm going to take a shower."

"What if I wanted to shower first?"

It was a joke. Light teasing. He shouldn't have but he did. Ryoma's back tensed in the doorway of the bathroom. His voice was so distant it was like they weren't in the same country, much less the same room. "Do you want to?"

"No." He busied himself with his clothes in shame. When he heard the click of the door he slumped unto his bed. The sound of the running water muffled the scream into his pillow.

* * *

People had always seen them as the embodiment of the perfect combination of hard work and loyalty. Rivals to best friends. Progress. Ryoma had hated it, but Kevin had been fascinated by the fact that people saw them as a package deal.

_You're Kevin Smith, right? Aren't you best friends with Ryoma Echizen? _

_Is that Ryoma Echizen? I wonder where Kevin Smith is. _

They didn't go places without the other somewhere nearby. And if they did, it didn't feel right. It was like being devoid of your racquet in a game. It was his safeguard, but it was also illogical to be without. Meaningless.

* * *

"Game to Smith, Kevin. 6-1."

He panted, heading out of the court with barely a backwards glance. It was a charity game which made his indifference almost nasty. The shoelaces on his brand new sneakers made an awkward sound against the sidewalk.

He found Ryoma sitting on a patch of grass, drinking a can of an unfamiliar cherry soda. Kevin stopped in front of him. "Where's your Ponta?"

"I don't drink that stuff anymore." Ryoma's cap was sitting on the ground. He looked completely unperturbed despite the fact that they'd played more then three games. Though there was a twist of hands that signaled deception.

He frowned. He didn't know why he was so bothered at such a small thing but Ryoma loved Ponta. Or he had. "Why not?"

"I just don't."

It was torture, really. To be around a person you knew better then anything that had ever lived and not truly know them. Kevin ached with it. He nodded, taking in the pursed lips and narrow shape of the person he used to think of his. _Mine, _was what Ryoma had said on the night they'd gotten together. He turned around and headed back the opposite way.

* * *

One night, Ryoma went to a party in honor of their united win without him. Not because he'd wanted to. Kevin had been sick and Ryoma's manager had thought it, "incredibly disrespectful not show up to one's own party." Which Ryoma had rolled his eyes at but complied anyway.

In the middle of the night Kevin had woken up in his hotel room to sounds of his best friend fucking someone. Right next to him. Ryoma had apologized the next morning and he'd forgiven him because, well, everyone did stupid shit. But after that he couldn't help wondering if maybe Ryoma didn't consider him his tennis racquet the same way he did.

* * *

The avoided each other for the rest of the week. No talking for longer the fifteen seconds. No looking for longer then six. Basic survival rules. He didn't want to get eaten alive by a person who wouldn't even touch him on _accident._

The beginning of the second week after countless matches and events and pretending, they were invited to have dinner with Ryoma's old friends. He wasn't exactly keening to go but he didn't have anything against them and he needed to do something fun. He was eighteen, for God's sakes. Right at the prime.

The restaurant was pretty relaxed, which he was thankful for, and Ryoma seemed to be familiar with the layout of it as he weaved through the tables to find the party. He recognized the self-assured air of Atobe Keigo, the half-lidded gaze of Fuji Syusuke and the bouncy, chattering figure of Kikumaru Eiji. There were some others, sipping on their drinks and engaging in quiet conversation; the perfect picture of a night out with friends.

There wasn't anywhere else for them to sit but beside each other. Ryoma looked like he'd rather be in the hospital then in close proximity with him but he greeted his friends with a cocky smirk. Everyone seemed to feed off of the falseness of that smirk.

"So, Kevin." Fuji smile was friendly but he looked tired. Atobe kept flicking glances at him from the corner of his eye. "How is being in Japan after so long?"

"It's nice. I missed it here. But I do kind of long for my cat." He said then winced at the thought of the cat Ryoma had given him. Fuck. Was everything tied to the person next to him?

A gentle voice hummed its way into the air. Oishi, if he remembered correctly. "Well, we'll have to get you to drag Ryoma here every once and awhile. We don't see him often enough."

He didn't turn but he could practically feel the sudden tension of Ryoma's hand around his glass of water. "Kevin wouldn't be able to drag me anywhere."

"It makes sense that Ochibi wouldn't let his boyfriend push him around."

Everyone stilled. It was like they were waiting for the confirm. The inevitable blush of tanned skin. _"If anything Ryoma's the one who drives the car." _Kevin would joke, putting his arm around his boyfriend while everyone laughed.

Dreams. Possibilities. They were trembling, breaking things. Once you touched them it was hard to know if they would stay still.

He shrugged as casually as he could. If he didn't say it Ryoma would. "We're just friends."

"Sure." He heard the murmur. Kevin was sure everyone did. He focused on the waitress conversing with a man right across from them. When he looked up Fuji was smiling at him. Not pityingly, but the curve of his mouth sympathizing.

The shadows above his cheekbones were noticeable and, Kevin wondered, with another glance from Atobe, what the man saw in his dreams.

* * *

He could always tell when Ryoma was mad. The way he moved was rougher, less grace and more noise. The doors were closed harder, strides longer. It was like watching a child who'd been punished extract their unholy wrath on the people who subjected it on them. Kevin waited for the blaze patiently.

Ryoma was going around the room, picking up random articles of clothing he'd left on the floor. His black suitcase was spread open on the bed and Kevin watched as he threw his things inside the carrier. Finally, "Friends, huh?"

He sighed, rising up from his bed. "Ryoma."

And his old friend was turning around, the gold of his eyes glinting so fiercely he was surprised the light bulbs hadn't exploded. He was surprised he hadn't exploded. "Fuck you. You don't get to say my name like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I don't understand. Like it means something. Like you _know _me."

Kevin wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. The page of this scene had been ripped out when he'd walked off the stage. But he said what he knew. "I'm sorry."

Ryoma's hands clenched. Probably debating on whether or not to punch him or shoot him. But then he was shaking his head, returning to his mission. Where was he going? The zipper zoomed across the suitcase and Ryoma was wheeling it out unto the floor.

He reached forward to put a hand on Ryoma's arm. The other boy's skin was bare and he shivered at the warmth of skin. "What are you doing?"

They were around the same height so when a finger trailed on his jaw he got to see the _look._ He remembered it. It was melting and solidifying. Be my chocolate and I'll be your bar of gold. Kevin jarred back when he felt lips against his because he could feel the look transfer into the kiss. He tried to dig his way out of the false comfort but Ryoma buried him alive in it. There was his dream but it was too perfect to be right.

And then he was breathing again. Ryoma was heading to the door with barely a glance back. He answered Kevin's question almost mockingly.

"I'm leaving. I thought I'd at least have the decency to tell you first."

Kevin tried to forget.

* * *

Ugh. Sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

Yo. This has become a four-shot. Pretty much. I'm starting the next chapter, like, right now along with trying to finish the next chapter of Centered.

Fuji/Kevin is my BrOTP, for sure. I really like when Fuji isn't a raving lunatic for once. And I love chocolate ice cream and Kevin's cat's name (Which Ryoma shamelessly teases him about next chapter).

By the way, all Ryoma's friends just think they were friends with unresolved sexual tension. They figured they'd gotten together by now. Which they did but Kevin pulled some crap. Kidding. Love you Kevin.

But, seriously, what were you doing, dude?

Warnings: Language. My general idiocy because I'm an idiot. Sorry. A Death Note reference, an Avenger T-shirt (That one's for you Danni) and a Black Butler reference. I ship Ciel and Alois so hard it's painful.

Note: Weirdly, I kind of ship Fuji/ Kevin now. Hmmm.

* * *

"Hello?"

A voice slid over the line, familiar and foreign all at once. "Smith?"

"Yes." He dipped his spoon into the cartoon of ice cream lying on the floor next to him and moaned softly at the taste. Chocolate ice cream was orgasmic. Kevin cleared his throat when he realized he was still on the phone. "Who's speaking?"

"Fuji Syusuke."

He dropped the phone. On his foot. "Fuck! I mean, oh. Well. Hi."

There was a distinct pause and he could hear the sound of muffled noise in the background. Was he- was he being _laughed_ at? He lowered his phone and frowned at it. But then Fuji was back, sounding just as put together as before. "Hello. How are you doing?"

"Good. I mean, like, cancer sucks and the world is slowly being take over by the government but yeah. I'm good. How are you?"

"Fine, thank you." Fuji coughed lightly.

Kevin was really confused. It'd only been a couple of days since he'd come back from Japan but he didn't understand why the great tensei from Ryoma's wet dreams was talking to him.

"So not to be rude, but why are you calling me?"

Now Fuji's tone was drenched in seriousness. "I thought we could talk. I wanted ask what happened between you and Ryoma."

"I don't know, really. There's not that much to say." Wow. Turning into a world class liar there, Smith. He swallowed more of his ice cream grumpily. He thought he must have moaned again because the tensei asked,

"Are you- what are you doing?"

He pushed the cartoon away a few inches. "Nothing."

"Are you having sex?" Fuji asked, but he sounded nothing but curious. Kevin choked.

"No. But chocolate is just as heavenly."

"So let me see if I have this straight; you're eating ice cream on the phone, by yourself, on a Saturday afternoon?"

He had the distinct impression that he was being criticized. So he defended himself. "It's more like evening."

"Please tell me you're not sitting on your kitchen floor."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He pursed his lips. Then, "It's actually very comfortable down here."

Light shuffling. "You and Ryoma really need to work everything out."

He sighed. It wasn't like he didn't know. He knew. He also knew that there wasn't a chance in hell Ryoma was just going to show up at his doorstep two hours away from where he lived and talk to him. His ex- best friend/ boyfriend wasn't exactly childish but he acted like a little kid.

If that made any sense.

And he kind of needed someone to talk to. It wasn't like he'd gotten the chance to rant about it before with anyone. He didn't have any friends. It was pathetic. So he leaned back against the counter and said, "He kissed me. Last week. Then left."

"That's a contradiction in action." Fuji commented.

"Which is basically what Ryoma is."

"So what are you going to do?"

He slammed his head against the counter and winced. "Shit. That's wood. Wood is not your friend. Anyway. I don't know. What can I do? I could go drive up to his apartment and bang on the door but knowing him he'd just pretend I wasn't there."

Fuji hummed softly. "I have to say something you might not want to hear."

"Don't worry. I already know Light becomes Kira and takes over the world."

"We are not discussing the ending of Death Note, Kevin." He started at the use of his first name and his newly appointed best friend's gentle rebuke. It seemed like he genuinely cared about if Kevin was okay. He'd thought, maybe, he was just doing this for Ryoma's sake. But maybe the tensei understood. "You left Ryoma a year ago, correct?"

"How do you- okay, never mind. Your creepy, of course you know that."

He was ignored. "Did he make any efforts or attempt to contact you at all?"

"No. "

Wait.

Okay. Now he was sort of pissed.

He'd never thought about it. _He'd_ done something wrong. _He'd_ been the one to screw up. Kevin had always operated on the line that he was the one at fault and, that, even if he wasn't he was still going to act like it was because some things were more important then pride. Pride wasn't going to kiss you or keep you warm. Pride wasn't going to be there when you needed someone to listen. It wasn't going to love you.

God must have been laughing at him. He'd been blessed (or cursed) with feelings for the most prideful person that existed. They were kind of like chocolate and vanilla, him and Ryoma. Everyone wanted vanilla because it was soft and creamy, it didn't taste bad. It was normal. But people forgot about chocolate. It was rougher around the edges. A stronger flavor. But it was just ice cream, same as vanilla.

Man. Now he was spewing ice cream analogies. Love really fucked you up.

"Kevin?"

He shook his head which was interesting because it wasn't like they could see each other. "I'm fine. Just thinking. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Tell me what's going on with you and that Atobe guy."

There was a sigh. Kevin knew the man looked as exhausted as he sounded.

"It's a very short and tedious story."

"Okay." He prompted because there was no way Fuji was getting out of this.

"We had sex all through high school. I love him. He's getting married."

"Well," He winced. What did one say to a person who was used and then reused then thrown away? Even the thought of Ryoma marrying anyone else made him jittery. He reached for his cartoon of chocolate again. It was slightly melted but, yes, okay, universal noise of fucking. "We could always murder him."

Fuji sounded choked. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not really comfortable with guns. Mostly, because I'd probably shoot myself on accident if I handled one. But poison's cool. Worked for Romeo and Juliet. Actually, no it didn't. Why am I talking?"

It took him a minute but Fuji was laughing. Sincere, I'm-very-amused-by-your-existence chuckles. And he joined in. It was nice to be okay for awhile.

* * *

He didn't cry when his father left. For a second he thought about it. The pain was there, the water pressing against his eyes. He could have. The house was empty. There was no one there. But he walked out of his father's deserted room, brushed past the pictures in the living room and he stood outside in front of the house just to watch.

It was like a movie. Everything was too fast, too unreal. It wasn't real. He was going to walk back in and his father was going to be there watching one of his favorite old movies while yelling into his cell phone. They were going to argue about tennis and make dinner together. It wasn't going to be this.

Kevin waited. And waited. It wasn't until over month that he called Ryoma's family. Asked to stay. Grabbed the money that had been lying on the dresser in his room and suffocated himself with people. It didn't fix the feeling, but it patched it up. And maybe it wasn't an excuse for all of it but it was a reason.

* * *

It was raining. Kevin was bored.

He jumped from his train of thought- prank calling probably wasn't such a good idea unless you were twelve and at a sleepover- at the sound of knocking. He stared at his cat where he was perched right next to the door. The white ball of fur yawned at him mockingly. Demon cat.

He opened the door cautiously. There were weirdoes in the world and it wasn't like he knew anybody around the area. He blinked when the sight of black hair plastered against lightly tanned skin greeted him. Ryoma wasn't really pursuing eye contact. He tilted his head at the state of his clothes. They were drenched.

Kevin opened the door wider. "Come on in. I'll get you something dry to wear."

Which he did. And then found himself drinking coffee with a silent Ryoma, staring into his cup with an unreadable expression. The shirt he was wearing was slightly big on his slender frame. It had the Avengers logo on it which had been his secret obsession since he could talk.

"So," He bit his lip. "What are you doing here?"

Ryoma slouched in his seat. Suddenly, he looked like a missing puppy; small and alone. He rasped, "I don't know."

He nodded. Took it for the truth. It was late and it was raining. It wasn't exactly the time to hash anything out. Kevin could wait. He stood up, hooking his thumbs into his waistband. Damn pajama pants and their nonexistent pockets. "I would give you my bed but my room's really messy. Pretty sure there's an unidentifiable dead body under my bed. So you can sleep on the couch."

"Can I-" Ryoma stopped himself. Shook his head. Kevin politely pretended he hadn't been about to ask what he was about to ask.

"I'll go get you some pillows and a blanket."

* * *

It was when he started contemplating the unresolved sexual tension of Alois Trancy and Ciel Phantomhive that he recognized that he really wasn't going to be getting any sleep. The clock on his beside table shouted _1:30_ in bold (or was it Times New Roman?), green letters. It was most definitely past his bedtime. Not that he had a- okay, he had a bedtime.

He closed his eyes, expelling a gust of air that the world probably didn't need. A tiny click and the padding of feet pried them back open. Ryoma was standing beside his bed with his arms crossed, glaring at the floor which he didn't mind because at least Kevin wasn't being glared at.

"Is there a dead body inside the couch too?" He ventured. More to be an asshole then anything, really.

Ah. _Now_ he was being glared at. But Ryoma shifted on the balls of his feet. "Can I sleep in here?"

He swallowed the snarky, "I don't know, can you?" and moved closer the left edge of the bed in answer. The mattress dipped, covers moving toward the opposite side. Kevin rolled his eyes. Prideful and a cover-hogger. He was just overflowing with good fortune.

Ryoma was muffled by the pillow but he could hear it all the same. "Stop rolling your eyes."

"I was just marveling at your cover generosity, you know, seeing as it is my bed."

"Sharing is caring."

"For kindergartener's. Which fits, I guess." Kevin winced as soon as he said it. Hadn't meant to. This was why he had a bedtime.

Ryoma rose on his elbows and turned his head to him. His gaze was daringly sharp. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He sighed, pressing into his bed as if he could become the thing. He was trying so hard not to find in something in this. Because there were things he could overanalyze, hope for. But he wasn't going to. This was what it was. Ryoma was here. In his bed. Being angry. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Just go to sleep. It's too late for any of this. I'm sorry for what I implied. Things slip out of my mouth and half of the time I don't mean them."

"Whatever." Ryoma fell back down with a huff. Kevin looked at the curve of Ryoma's neck and the expanse of skin where the hem of his shirt had rode up. He was hit with the sudden urge to touch and he fisted his hands in the sheets. Before he knew it he was easing them out of their grip, drifting off with the feel of person beside of him spreading warmth all around him.

* * *

It was either a Black Butler or Ichigo/ Grimmjow from Bleach. I decided Alois/Ciel needed some recognition. I think Kevin would think Black Butler was more badass anyway.


End file.
